Painted Lady X Blue Spirit 1
by Mawk
Summary: Exactly what the title says. Currently in the "minimum of fluff" stage.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

A figure slid through the village like a ghost. Moonlight encrusted the edges of every shape with silver. Stars glittered coldly overhead as the figure slipped into one of the silent houses.

Some kind of criminal had been ravaging the poor of this town for weeks now. People called him the Snake, because he didn't kill outright, but left instead deep puncture wounds over the body. They were easily infected, and to make it worse, a new kind of sickness had found the town as well. The sickness caused the wounds to balloon up, looking red and angry. Attempting to do anything to these welts simply caused them to burst. People were getting sick just from watching.

She was lucky today. Throughout her visits, most of the patients had been uncomfortable, but not so near death that they couldn't be healed. Elders sighed, parents stretched, and children smiled after the cool water banished the marks and eased their pain. Only a few were conscious, and they all muttered about angels.

The Painted Lady came and went as unceremoniously as possible. One could never know what kind of villains snuck through the nights. She couldn't afford to lose precious time for her patients.

It was a few hours before dawn when she healed her last patient. The last thing she wanted to do was start searching for the Snake. But she knew it had to be done. If the Snake could be convinced to stop hurting the poor, perhaps she would be able to take a rest now and then. The Painted Lady crouched into a recess in the alley walls and flattened herself to wait for any news.

She did not have to wait long. A short while after she let out a shrieking, frightened woman's cry into the night, a slight noise tickled her ears. A short, squat man hurried down the alley, his head jerking nervously back and forth. The Painted Lady tensed. An assassin.

The assassin didn't have time to scream as a piece of coarse cloth was stuffed down his throat. Heaving the struggling man to the very back of the alley, the Painted Lady shackled him to the ground and let a dozen or so frozen shards of ice float menacingly in front of his face. Very slowly she removed the gag.

The man seemed to be more intelligent than the usual criminal. "What do you want?" he hissed very quietly, his voice rough with fear. The Painted Lady nodded her approval and let some of the ice shards fall silently to the ground.

"Where can I find the Snake?" A startled yelp escaped the assassin's lips before the Painted Lady clamped her hand down over them.

"Quiet."

Seeming to know he wouldn't be able to escape anyway, the man relaxed and closed his eyes. "You know of the Snake… but no one ever knows about him. How do you know?" The shards moved closer, and the assassin coughed quietly. "Right, the Snake. No one knows where he sleeps or who he is, but after his work he goes to a tavern – The Sleeping Maiden," he amended quickly as his shackles tightened briefly.

The Painted Lady smiled grimly. "His appearance?"

"Ugly. Two knives at his belt. Short, very muscular. Fast hands. He likes to cover his face with paint – kind of like yours, miss."

The ice shards dropped and the shackles melted. Still the assassin did not move. The Painted Lady eyed him critically. "Why are you an assassin?" she asked curiously.

Relieved, the man sat up and crossed his legs into a more comfortable position. "I always had skill with knives. Ma said I would be a great carver someday. That was before this, of course." He pointed at his beer belly. "I got into drinking. I can't stop. Ma threw me out after I had used all our money and cut off my pinkies." He held up his hand, and the Painted Lady realized with a start that he only had four fingers. The man shook his head. "There's not a better way to make criminals, miss. With this hand I cannot carve like I used to. I have nothing to sustain me, no line of work I can pursue," he went on, holding up his hands dejectedly.

The Painted Lady felt sympathy well up in her chest. She knew most people didn't choose to become criminals. They had no other skills, couldn't get into a line of work because of their appearance, or were simply afraid of themselves being mugged. But there were still those who relished their work, and she despised them.

The assassin trembled as she removed his knives and capsules of poison. She pocketed them for later disposal. She couldn't risk them breaking and contaminating the water supply.

"What am I supposed to do now?" whined the man as she turned to leave. The Painted Lady smiled at him bleakly.

"There are centers for people like you; don't you know? Down the street, take a left in front of the warehouses, and follow the line of trees. You can't miss it." She stepped back and allowed the man to scramble away.

Resolutely she left the alley and faced the other direction. The tavern of the Sleeping Maiden it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. I apologize for the shortness!

There was another person searching for the Snake that night. This person was not a healer of the sick and wounded. Criminals feared him and ran when they saw him. He punished severely any criminal he found.

Currently he was sandwiched between the chimneys rising from one of the more well to do houses. Patiently he waited. The night was warm, and insect whirred around him, seeking a meal. He ignored them and focused on the street below.

Earlier he had heard a woman shriek. Yet no matter how much he had searched, he had not found the woman or the cause of her yell. All he had seen was a man and a woman huddled together, speaking in low voices. If he had bothered to look more closely, he would have noted the slight gleam of the woman's floating weapons in the air and the man's fearful look.

Something moved in the corner of his vision. Years of practice had trained him to follow movement with his eyes only. He watched as the figure scurried down the path. For a moment he was confused; villains kept to the shadows. They never went to the center of the road. After brief hesitation, he decided that a good man would have been sleeping at this hour and swung himself down from the roof.

The man gave a quiet squawk. "What do you want now, Painted La –," he broke off as he saw his assailant. "Blue Spirit!" he whispered, quavering. His hands went up in a gesture of respect and fear.

The Blue Spirit pulled out his Dao blades and held them threateningly. "Why the Painted Lady?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

The man spread his hands. The Blue Spirit noted with interest that both of his pinkies were gone. "I spoke with her. The Painted Lady. She took all my weapons and told me the way to the… center. She said I would receive help there."

The Blue Spirit scowled behind his blue mask. The Painted Lady had appeared out of nowhere soon after the plague started. He didn't have anything against her healing the ones stricken with the illness, but now she was sending every criminal she met to the rehabilitation center. All villains deserved punishment.

The man wasn't finished with his advice. "She's looking for the Snake."

This caught the Blue Spirit off guard. Why would she want to go looking for him? She only healed the sick and – oh no. The Blue Spirit sheathed his blades and swung himself back onto the roof. The former assassin breathed out a sigh of relief as he watched the Blue Spirit sprint over the rooftops.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3! Thank you for reading!

The Blue Spirit vaulted over the chimneys and swore silently to himself. The Painted Lady was searching for the Snake? That could only mean she meant to reform him as well. Sparks flew from his throat as he exhaled angrily. Quickly he dimmed down his anger, letting it fester inside of him. He couldn't risk the whole town burning down.

He reached the edge of town and continued on, sprinting through the blackness of night. He didn't stop until he reached the river. He carefully lifted his Dao blades from his back before spewing a huge fireball into the sky. He let the anger he had left inside during his run morph into twisting sheets of swirling flames. Damn it, he had been punishing the villains of this town since he was old enough to use his blades. And now some foreign healer thought she could just make it all better? That everyone would be happy? That wasn't right. It wasn't fair to those who were robbed in the streets. It wasn't fair to the old man who had been stoned to death. It wasn't fair to the girls kidnapped by pedophiles and rapists. It wasn't fair to the murdered.

**The world isn't fair**.The slippery thought slimed into the Blue Spirit's dance of anger.

_Dammit. They deserve____to be punished. How could she think any different?_

**You can't fix everything, you know.**

_Dammit, I sure as hell can try._

**She's trying to fix things in her own way, you know.**

_Trying to reform everyone won't erase what they did. I'm avenging the people._

Eventually the spark left his anger, leaving him feeling like a dull blade. Wearily he sat down and removed his mask. He stared at the blades of grass that had survived his temper tantrum. He smiled tiredly. _I'm such a child. _He ran his fingers through his dark hair, allowing the wind to dry his sweaty face.

The Blue Spirit puzzled over the Painted Lady. He had never met someone so dedicated to changing the criminal population. Sure, there were the do-gooders who would try to help, but they soon left after seeing some heinous act of villainy. Then they would stutter something brainless and run for the safety of their homes.

The Painted Lady was different. He had heard many people talk in hushed voices of her healing skills and kindness. She gave food and money to the poor, offered advice, calmed restless children, healed hurt livestock, purified water, and healed the sick. The Blue Spirit was astounded at this list. Then he assumed she was simply a silly rich woman who was trying to get into heaven.

But he had never expected her to come looking for the Snake. That was more in his line of work.

For a second he had a sense of jealousy. It was his job to take out the villains of this city. She couldn't just waltz in and start undermining him! The Blue Spirit gave a dry laugh at the direction his thoughts were headed and shook his head. Whoever this Painted Lady was, he'd show her who could track criminals!

Determinedly he got up and put his mask and blades back on. There was still an adequate amount of time before the sun rose to start his tracking. As he furtively slunk back to the village, he wondered briefly why he had never considered taking down the Snake. He guessed that he was so busy apprehending all the other ne'er-do-wells.

Keeping to the dark crevices of the alleys, he loped to the Sleeping Maiden. Everyone in criminal circles knew it was one of the Snake's haunts. The Blue Spirit assumed the Painted Lady would be somewhere there as well. Would he be able to tell her apart from the rowdy, dangerous female criminals?

Ducking out of his mask, the Blue Spirit pulled up his hood and brushed his hair over the left side of his face. He crept into the tavern. The place was well lit, but that only accentuated the dust particles and bloody walls. Several female cat burglars were in the process of beating up another female cat burglar. The Blue Spirit felt a twinge until he noticed that the victim was more than holding her own, smashing beer glasses into her assailants' faces and lashing out with vicious kicks. He left them to it and scanned the rest of the room as he sat down at the bar.

~~~~~~~~Oh my goodness, there are appears to be a LINE here, doesn't there~~~~~~~~~

The Painted Lady looked down at herself and smiled, pleased with the results of a few minutes of fussing. She always had a few raggedy robes on hand when she needed to travel incognito. She had wrapped a scarf tightly around her head to hide her hair and covered her Painted Lady robes with scraggly gray sheets. She'd exchanged her veil for a more moth-eaten one and kicked off her shoes. As long as she hunched over far enough and kept her head hidden under her hat, she would easily be mistaken for an old lady. Besides, everyone around here knew that the old ladies that came here were a force to be reckoned with.

Shuffling, she entered the Sleeping Maiden, keeping a sharp lookout underneath the rim of her hat. Keeping her hands folded closely to her sides, she dodged a screaming knot of women and made her way over to the bar.

The bartender gave a sarcastic little bow as she seated herself with outward difficulty. "What'll it be, Granny?"

The Painted Lady grinned to herself before turning her voice into a creaky scratch. She ordered a strong alcoholic drink. The bartender gave her an odd look. "Us old folks handle our drink much better than thems," she drawled, pointing at a group of drunken men. He shrugged at this and set about getting her drink.

After carefully dumping her drink on the floor, the Painted Lady assessed the situation. There were quite a few short, ugly men sitting at the tables. Most of them were muscular, and she bit her lip. How was she supposed to know which one was the Snake? She decided that it would be best to watch for now.

After a while, she noticed that a few of the short, muscular men seemed to be leading their immediate conversations. Not wanting to waste any time, she swung herself off her stool to get closer and investigate.

Too late she remembered she was in disguise as the old lady. Hurriedly she bent over and shuffled away, hoping no one had noticed. No one called her out, and she breathed a sigh of relief and went back to watching the potential Snakes.


	4. Chapter 4

This is Chapter 4. I thank you for following me up until now.

Now, to the fun stuff!

The Blue Spirit narrowed his eyes. The old lady had jumped from the chair with the grace of a much younger woman. Suspiciously he watched as she hobbled towards one of the rowdier tables. The old lady took a seat near the table and seemed to be watching them intently.

More fuel was added to his suspicions when the old lady tugged her veil into place. Her hands were the smooth and limber ones of a young woman, not the gnarled and wrinkly talons of an old one. Even as he processed this, he saw a flash of rich red robes as the fake old lady shifted her robes to hide hands. Curious and suspicious, he got up and edged towards the object of his irritation.

~~~~~~ My gosh, another line, how interesting~~~~~~

The Painted Lady felt steely determination harden inside her gut. One of the men at the table was indeed the Snake, or at least pretending to be. She scanned and rescanned his face and figure, committing him to memory. She memorized his dull blue eyes and his scarred hands. She studied the various etchings on the knives that stuck in his belt.

The tavern was filled with the noise of burping men, fighting women, and breaking glass. The Painted Lady didn't notice the approach of the stranger until her was right next to her. Cautiously she peered at him and tried to make out a face in his hood. All she could see, however, was the faint gleam of an eye. She put her crone voice on again. "What do you want, boy?"

The stranger gritted his teeth against her patronizing tone. As smoothly and calmly as possible he replied, "Would the lady care to share a drink with me?"

The Painted Lady flinched slightly. _Does he… know? He can't… _However, she knew it would be suspicious to refuse this offer, so she cackled and agreed. "In need of some female company, boy?" Carefully she attempted to make out any features inside his hood, but was unsuccessful. The stranger bowed slightly and strode towards the bar. The Painted Lady cursed herself. She would have to be extra careful for a while.

The bartender gave her another sarcastic bow and remarked, "Found yous'self a companion, Granny?" The stranger ignored the comment and ordered for both of them. He watched her from the depths of his hood as she scrutinized him from underneath her hat.

The Painted Lady snatched her drink as soon as it hit the table and hid it under her hat. Carefully, she water-bent the strong alcoholic liquid onto the floor. She needed all her wits. The stranger took a mouthful of his drink before asking, "How old are you, Granny?"

She had prepared herself for this question. "Older than the women you should be attracted to, boy," she crowed, fighting back hilarity. This was kind of fun.

The stranger was silent for a moment, then leaned back and took a few more mouthfuls of his drink. They studied each other for a while. "How do you make your living?" the stranger asked, leaning forward.

"I –!" The Painted Lady broke off quickly. She hadn't used her crone voice. The stranger seemed not to have noticed, but she dipped her head to further hide herself.


	5. Chapter 5

Greetings all. Welcome to Chapter 5! Let's get down to business.

The Blue Spirit knew for sure now that the old woman was merely pretending to be. A suspicion crept into his mind. Acting on impulse, he reached out and lifted up the lady's hat with his thumb.

Blue eyes rimmed with red paint glared at him, looking insulted. The Blue Spirit watched, astonished, as the Painted Lady sprang up from her chair and literally hurdled through one of the windows. With a yell, he leapt after her, stretching out his hand to snatch at her fluttering cloak. The only thing he caught was the lumpy old robe she had used as a disguise. Deeming it as worthless, he pitched it into the dark behind him and focused on catching his prey.

The Painted Lady was puzzled by the stranger's behavior. Did he really think he could catch a Spirit? Okay, so she wasn't really a Spirit, but nobody else knew that. She flashed down a turn in the road and tried to remember what the way to the river was. In case this nut job was bent on chasing her until morning.

The Blue Spirit puzzled over the Painted Lady's actions. Why did she keep running? He knew she wasn't really a Spirit, just as he wasn't. Didn't she know about him? Well, he had been wearing a hood, so he supposed she hadn't really had a chance to recognize him.

He blinked in surprise as she threw her thick, dingy disguise veil at him. How was that supposed to stop him? He had to admit she had stamina, though. Not once during the chase had she shown any sign of tiring. Feeling his own legs start to burn, he started getting a little bit of respect for the Painted Lady.

Regretting that she was moving too fast to water-bend, the Painted Lady steered towards the edge of town. She felt her legs protest as she poured on more speed. Wind whipped at her veil and robes, tugged at hair, pushed her back like waves on the beach.

Something glinted in the distance. The Blue Spirit doubled his efforts as his prey seemed to flatten and run even faster. She was racing all out for the river. Was she trying to _swim _away from him?

The river drew nearer and nearer as the Blue Spirit started to catch up with his prey. He could hear her labored breathing and the thumps her feet made as they struck the earth. He stretched out a hand to try and grab her cloak again, and then skidded to a halt when she flung herself headfirst into the river. And disappeared.

The Blue Spirit stared at the water in disbelief. _What the…_ Then he groaned. He now had a freaking _waterbender _to chase down. Angrily he chucked a pebble into the water. A curious fish stared at the pebble, mouthed at it, and then decided it was uninteresting.

Frustrated, the Blue Spirit pulled off his hood and sat down. What a complete waste of energy. And now he not only had to track down the Painted Lady, but she was also faster than him!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 is already finished!

_**NOTE: **__This story will focus mainly on the Painted Lady and Blue Spirit. I don't feel like writing Zutara stuff in this story. The Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit are still Katara and Zuko, but I don't feel like going there much._

The Painted Lady gasped and heaved herself out of the river. It was bitterly cold, and her hands had started to go numb. Dripping, she stared at the starry sky and sighed in relief. It seemed she had lost her pursuer.

She was mystified at what had happened. A girl disguising herself as an old lady wasn't reason to chase her, was it? Something red ran into her eyes, and she lifted a hand to wipe it away. The crimson paint was trickling down her face. With a start, she realized what had happened. _He must have been chasing the Painted Lady… he didn't want me at all! _Quickly she scrubbed at her face until the paint had washed off. She watched her reflection in the water change from a mess of paint to the simple, brown skinned face that was hers. Katara was back.

Katara noticed that she was shivering and remembered that her clothes were sopping wet. Slowly she water-bent the water from her clothes while thinking feverishly. Why would anyone want the Painted Lady so badly they would try to chase her down? Did she have enemies? Sure, murderers scorned her and would kill her if they had the chance, but they would rather skulk in the shadows in wait than actively pursue their quarry.

Katara set her mind to the task of wondering about her follower as she methodically set about getting back home. Well, back to the gang anyway. All she needed was to get back without any of them waking up and hide her Painted Lady garb. In the morning she would take one of the special berries she had collected that staved off fatigue. While she didn't leave as the Painted Lady every night, going every two to three days still affected her.

Very carefully and very quietly she crept to her bed. She had stashed her costume away underneath her bed. She stared at the ceiling and sighed. Turning onto her side, she decided to leave all ponderings to tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~Ooh! A line!~~~~~~~~~~

The Blue Spirit felt too disturbed to continue his work. Looking to the east, he already saw the faint glimmers of pink morning sky threading its way across the horizon. Wearily he turned in the direction of home. The others always wondered at his weariness during the day after he had been out chasing criminals. He evaded their questions with his classic excuse of nighttime training.

Zuko took off his mask and stared at it. It was a symbol of revenge in criminal circles, but to him it represented a satisfying sense of retribution. He had been hurting people for so long, and he felt it was the least he could do to atone for that.

But he also had to admit it gave him something to do. The adrenaline rush he got while hunting was almost addictive. Sighing, he conceded that perhaps it would be best to take a rest from being the Blue Spirit for a while. Never again would he take pleasure from hurting people. Though he punished the evil-doers he found severely, he hoped he would always get his excitement from the actual chase and not the punishment itself.

Resigned, he silently made his way into his quarters. His spirit costume he stowed away under one of the loose floorboards. Aang was an incredibly curious child who would poke his nose into anything that seemed out of place, and having it there was safer than directly underneath his bed. He could just see Sokka having a freakish spazz and insisting the costume burned, Aang discovering it and running around wearing it gleefully, Toph insisting on knowing what it was. He could do without that drama.

Dark demons haunted his thoughts when he tried to sleep. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but his imagination always ran overtime after a night of being the Blue Spirit. Even as he scoffed at himself for his childish thoughts of murderous snake-like ferrets and blood-encrusted saber wielding shadows, they terrified him. Mentally he did battle with them, wishing them all to go. _Leave me alone, _he thought fiercely, glaring at the ceiling.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 is here! Hope you enjoy!

_**ANOTHER ANNOYING NOTE: **I don't proofread my stuff. All I do is edit. So if there is anything that doesn't make sense, forgive me._

Night fell. Katara went out, trying to quell the strange feeling it gave her to be out again. Checking up her Painted Lady makeup, she realized she was afraid of meeting her hunter from the other night. Or rather, not afraid, but annoyed. She felt a kind of irritation at what had commenced a few nights before. _It won't happen that way again, _she vowed, narrowing her eyes. Just let him try to chase her again! This time she would be prepared.

But first things first. Silently she stole into the village, her mind set on healing. Tonight was the end of the week, and there were always many drunkards on days like these. Resigned to a night of healing a large batch of beer-filled men, she stared at the starry sky.

The first few patients she healed were commonplace; poor men who worked all day and then spent all their hard-earned money on their addictions. Many sang songs of beautiful ladies and angels as she worked. Occasionally there would be the violent ones, which she restrained with thin snakes of water. After most of her healings the patients fell soundly asleep.

The healing went by uneventfully, drearily even. There was a mind-numbing repetition to the work. She sort of welcomed it. It meant that her pursuer from the other night had probably forgotten her.

~~~~~~~~This line is swirly! How awesome!~~~~~~~~~~~

The Blue Spirit practically flew over the rooftops. He didn't know if the Painted Lady was out tonight, and he'd simply decided to scope out the area.

Whenever a shape flickered in his vision, he landed in a crouch and swung his head to survey the scene. Oftentimes it was simply a small fight, nothing really serious. Occasionally he had to swing down and rescue a shrieking lady from the advances of some drunkard, but nothing difficult actually took place.

_Maybe she's not here tonight, _he wondered, then bit back the thought. She _had _to be here. Tonight was the end of the week; it was obvious she would be here. There were more patients to heal on this night than any other of the week.

Something clattered at his feet. Astounded, he made out the shape of a girl below him chucking rocks at him. _Huh? _Then a rock hit him in the face, and he flashed down from the roof like a cat. The girl glared at him and raised her hand to throw another missile at him. Instantly he shot out a hand.

She spewed out a large and quite impressive list of foul words. The Blue Spirit smiled to himself and pried the weapon from her fingers. Nonchalantly he tossed it up and down and turned his back on the girl. "You should be more careful," he said quietly, sensing her stiffening behind him. "The next person you throw rocks at might actually want to hurt you."

"Why don't you?" she hissed, still on her guard. He noted with amusement another rock was already in her hands. He turned and grinned at her, even though he knew she couldn't see his face.

"I have better things to do than bother you."

"Oh really? I bet you're just jumping over the rooftops for the simple _joy _of it."

"I'm not, imagine that!"

Suddenly the girl started laughing uproariously. The Blue Spirit watched, baffled. The girl wiped her eyes and threw him an amused glance. "You're pretty funny, actually." Coquettishly she batted her eyes at him. Rolling his eyes in his mask, he tossed her back the rock he had been playing with and went back to searching for his prey.

Eventually he picked up a scent. A group of men rambling on about an angel switched on his interest. From their hoarse, slightly confused cries he gathered that the Painted Lady was indeed out tonight. _Perfect. _All he needed now was to follow the trail of healing.

There was no point in punishing the drunkards. He knew he himself would be incredibly ticked if she started healing any of those he had punished. Which, on further reflection, she probably had.

The small, scattered groups of healed men began to take on a kind of pattern, leading him farther into the village. A small, surprised cry from up ahead caused him to sprint the last few rooftops to its source.

There she was, bending over one of her patients. A glint in the darkness betrayed the existence of a glowing snake of water. The water languidly bent itself and disappeared briefly into her patient's body.

The Blue Spirit decided to follow her for a while. Since she was ultimately after the Snake, he might learn something useful. _No point in talking to her right now, anyway. _She seemed fully intent on healing and would probably simply ignore him unless he kidnapped her. Which he had no intention of doing. An angry water-bender he could do without.

Flattening himself against the roof, he shifted the set of his mask to be able to see her more clearly. She spent no more time that she had to on each of her patients, but they all received the same gentle care. _Stupid, _he thought. _They're just going to get drunk again tomorrow! It would be better to give them a lesson they won't forget to keep them from wasting all their money on beer._

Huh? Was that really why he punished them? Because he cared about their well-being? No… it was because they caused trouble, and trouble bred criminals. He was just killing the weed at its source.

His thoughts snapped back to reality when the Painted Lady straightened and disappeared. Disbelievingly he stared at the spot she had just been. Then a flash of pale white from her veil lasered his gaze in on her.

This time, only he would know the hunt was on.


	8. Chapter 8

OHOHOHO Chapter 8! YES!

_**ANOTHER NOTE FOR YOU CONFUSED PEOPLE:** I have no idea why they can't recognize each others voices. Deal with the fact that they can't. _

The Painted Lady jabbed her thumb into the man's throat. He let out a strangled sort of sound and stumbled. He stepped backwards to regain his balance and then lurched onto his face when her foot made a dainty acquaintance with his ankle. Flabbergasted, he stared at the sky while the Painted Lady went about her business healing the arms and legs of a woman on the side of the street.

The Blue Spirit was impressed in spite of himself. The Painted Lady had been intent on healing the woman; her flesh had looked more pulped than bruised. Her attacker had come out of nowhere, wielding a kind of large club. He made some kind of predictable demands, waving around his weapon in what was probably supposed to be a menacing way.

There was no indication in the Painted Lady's demeanor that she even heard the man. Confidently she strode up to the woman and knelt down, applying her healing balm of cool blue water. The man was dumbfounded. The woman stirred and screamed when she saw the looming shadow of the man with the club. From the movement of her head, the Blue Spirit could tell she was rolling her eyes. Sighing, she had stood and faced her enemy.

The confrontation had ended before it began. And she hadn't even inflicted any kind of lasting damage on him.

The woman fell unconscious again, and the Painted Lady returned her attentions to her patient. She murmured something quiet and left a gift – a large, fleshy peach – inside the folds of her clothing. Then she left.

He followed, more cautiously than before. While he was sure he could hold his own against _her, _he really didn't feel like letting her know she was being followed. She might try the trick with the river again, and then he would have wasted an entire night in following her.

Eventually he realized he wasn't getting very far by following her in secret. She asked the stronger of her patients' questions about the Snake, he was sure, but their conversations were usually so hushed he couldn't understand what was said. Grimacing at the thought of having wasted the night after all, he stepped out to intercept her just as she was leaving the village.

_-This line is straighter than the last one… how dull…-_

The Painted Lady stopped. She often faced down men like this, but this one seemed slightly less insane than the other ones. And he also seemed somewhat familiar. Irritated, she looked for his face and saw a horned, blue and white face grinning out at her. _What's with that mask?_

He moved his hand up into the universal symbol for "I come in peace" and suddenly she recognized him. This was the same man who had chased her the night before. She crossed her arms and put a sullen expression on her face.

"And what do _you _want?"

"The Snake." It looked so incongruous when he spoke, as the mask covered his mouth as well.

"Oh right. I should have expected that. I know _exactly _where he is."

The Blue Spirit frowned. She was using sarcasm? On _him? _"Don't meddle with him," he growled, keeping his impatience in check.

"Why not? He hurts innocent people, and the sooner I get rid of him, the less victims of his I have to heal."

"Get rid of him… how are you going to be able to do _that, _miss Painted Lady_?_"

The Painted Lady stared at him. "Why would I tell you?" In reality, she hadn't given much thought to it. She presumed she would take him captive and force him to swear he would stop. If he refused, she would drag him over to the sheriff's office and have them do with him as they saw fit. "And who are you anyway?"

_WHAAAAT? _She hadn't even heard of him? Indignantly he searched her face. Could she really be so careless as to not have heard of him? "You must be pretty careless, not knowing who I am."

"I know I can outrun you."

He smirked inside his mask._ Touché._ The Painted Lady continued to stare at him.

"Are you going to tell me who you are, or aren't you? I have patients, and I'd much rather be with them than trying to talk to you."

"You haven't ever heard of the Blue Spirit?"

She regarded him thoughtfully, her rudeness wiped away by curiosity. The continually grinning blue and white mask covered his face and hid his expressions. He was dressed simply, in black, and there were two Dao blades attached to his back. "Yes, I've heard of you." What she had heard did not impress her. The Blue Spirit seemed, at least to her, a self appointed "angel of justice". What kind of right did he have in hurting people?

"Anyway, leave the Snake to me." She snapped out of her thoughts and saw that he had somehow managed to get onto the roof of a nearby house. _Did he teleport or what? _Then she noticed the vines leading up the wall. _Aha. _Then he crouched down and hissed, "Don't you dare even think about trying to _reform _him." It was obvious he was about to leave.

The Painted Lady stared at the mask. "There is no way on earth you can stop me."

The Blue Spirit narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "Yes there is," he threatened.

Quick as a whip, as lash of water swirled around the Painted Lady. "Don't even think about it," she warned. Discreetly she dug around in her pockets and carefully pulled out her dagger.

The Blue Spirit braced himself. Who did _she _think she was? "You really think you can take me on?"

"I have a lot of patients."

"Oh yeah?" The Blue Spirit swung himself down from his perch and drew out his blades. "I guess you'll have to heal them later."

"I'll make an exception for you," she snarled, the water whip deadly still.


	9. Chapter 9

The Suspenseful Chapter 9! Enjoy! I decided in the banter at the end of the chapter that The Blue Spirit's lines would be bolded, just so you can tell who's talking.

The water whip flicked forward almost too fast for his eyes to follow. It slithered across his leg and tugged at his ankle. Stunned, the Blue Spirit managed to dodge to the side right before the whip would have sent him crashing to the ground. Annoyed, he spat at the ground and pulled out his Dao blades.

The Painted Lady smirked. What use was a blade against water? In a move she basically ripped off from Aang, she crouched and swung out her foot, sending a powerful slice of water at her opponent. He jumped over it and sprinted towards her with his blades glinting in the moonlight. Without really having to think about it, the Painted Lady realized he was too agile to try and trip him.

At the last second she managed to pull back the water and block his swords with her hastily constructed ice blade. They both pushed on their weapons, testing the strength of the other. The Painted Lady sent a ball of water flying at the side of his head; he leapt backwards with considerable speed and jumped back into the fray after it had shot past him.

The Painted Lady lifted herself up high on a snake of water she had hauled over from a nearby animal trough. _Let's see him attack me now. _She rose higher and higher, before bending the water out from under her into a kind of huge sword. She heaved it behind her as she fell and then brought her arms down as though wielding a hammer. The makeshift sword of water came roaring down onto the Blue Spirit, freezing at the last moment.

The Painted Lady tumbled through the air, quickly pulling water from the enormous splash out to cushion her fall. Gently she landed and looked over at the Blue Spirit, fully expecting to see him frozen in a giant curve of ice. Not only was he not there, her ice blade was gone too! Irritated, she saw his Dao blades sticking out of the ground. _Where was he?_

"Hello." The Painted Lady whirled to see the Blue Spirit right behind her. Before she could even _start _thinking about how he had gotten there, a huge blaze of fire shot out of his hands.

The Blue Spirit watched as his opponent was flung backwards the intense blast. Part of her robe had charred, but she must have instinctively protected herself with water, as she seemed primarily unharmed. She pushed herself up and rubbed the back of her head with a grimace. _Well, this is crap, _she thought, straightening herself and tightening her clothing. Her clothes had become a liability; first off, she didn't feel like getting new ones if these burned, and secondly, the billowing folds of cloth would make her easier to hit. Quickly she pulled cords around her waist and wrists, fastening the cloth.

They went for each other again, this time both aware of the others power. Flames sizzled upon hitting water, which hissed and steamed. The Painted Lady began backing in the direction of the river, hoping to get more supplies of water. A roaring wall of fire incepted her and cut them off from the outside world.

It was like an endless circle. Water would rush towards the Blue Spirit and attempt to put out the flames, and the flames would knock them aside. Fire would flash towards the Painted Lady and would be swallowed by the dancing blobs of blue water.

Half-asleep spectators from the town would later tell of the great battle between the angry river and the phoenix. However, most of them fled back inside after witnessing the large bursts of fire and the angry swathes of water. Only one person saw the whole thing, and he was killed later that day by group of pickpockets.

Eventually the Painted Lady changed tactics. Ice missiles shot towards her adversary while sneaky tongues of water sped high overhead, almost invisible to the eye. While warding off the sharp frozen projectiles, the Blue Spirit suddenly found himself unable to breathe.

_Remember, fire comes from the breath, _he heard Iroh say. It was true; his flame wall fell into nothing.

Frantically he clawed at the water. His hands slid through it, having no effect whatsoever. For a brief second his nose was freed, allowing him a deep gasp of life-giving air. Then his face was smothered again.

The Painted Lady stalked up to him and waited. The Blue Spirit had fallen to his knees and was still attempting to wipe away the water. "Don't you ever dare inconvenience me again," the Painted Lady commanded coldly. The Blue Spirit didn't appear to hear her. Bubbles left his mouth. The Painted Lady's eyebrows drew together as she waited.

The Blue Spirit watched dazedly as black spots broke into his vision. Vigorously he shook his head. More used-up air escaped his mouth. Desperately he gasped, water flooded his mouth and choked him. Coughing only drew in more water. He swung his head around to stare into the impassive blue eyes of the Painted Lady. His mind whirled.

She was going to kill him if she kept this up. He searched her gaze, finding only a cool calm. He pushed out a hand and attempted to get a flame going. A tiny little spurt of fire, like that of a candle, flickered dangerously in his hands. Incongruously he felt a rising hilarity. He grinned under his mask. The black spots blurred together.

The Painted Lady let her hand droop. She couldn't kill him. Obligingly the water fell to the ground with a splash. Then she was overcome with what she had almost done. Gasping, she fell to her knees and stared at her hands. In her eyes, blinded with her own horror, they were already stained with blood. It began to rain.

She didn't move as the Blue Spirit sloshed through the mud. He stopped right in front of her, but she didn't feel able to even look up. Tears ran down her silent face. After a while the Blue Spirit crouched down in front of her and lifted up her hat. She raised her eyes to his face. Clouds had covered the moon, and it was too dark to see anything past the dripping white swirls of the mask. She fully expected him to drive his blades through her.

The Blue Spirit let out something similar to a sigh. They'd both tried to kill each other, and they'd both failed. "We can't kill each other," he put his thoughts into words.

"No."

He put out his hand. "We'll swear on it."

She put her hand on his and closed her eyes. "I swear by the Great Spirit that I will never again try to kill you." The Blue Spirit repeated this, and they let their hands sink. "What now?" asked the Painted Lady. What did you do when you failed to kill someone?

The Blue Spirit couldn't look surprised, as his face was covered by a mask, but his startled movements gave him away. "We obviously have to look for the Snake together. I think if only one of us goes, the other will harass him whatever way she can." She glared at him. "Do you think _I _like the idea of going after the Snake with _you?_"

"And what, exactly, is so wrong with having me there?"

"**You tried to kill me, for one."**

"I just swore I wouldn't."

"**You're more likely to leave the Snake with a nice bouquet of flowers than punish him."**

"Well, _you're _more likely to beat up people for the sole purpose of information."

"**And **_**you're **_**more likely to let the entire village know that we're looking for him."**

"At least I'll be able to get information without beating them up."

"**At least I have the guts to."**

"At least I can heal as well as fight!"

"**At least I can… light candles without a match!"**

They realized the banter was getting ridiculous at the same time. The Painted Lady giggled, and something like a quiet laugh escaped the Blue Spirit.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10!**

For several days after the battle, neither the Painted Lady nor the Blue Spirit were seen in the village. There were rumors from the people that, after the two spirits had finished battling, they had walked into the stars hand in hand. Katara got whiff of these rumors one morning from Sokka and snorted.

"You really think they would just make up after such a large battle?"

Sokka goggled at her. "Why not?"

Katara was slightly offended by his completely shocked stare, but replied, "According to you, the witnesses said they were going at each other with," she put her hands up into air quotes, "'lashes of fire and water' the entire night and then 'called upon the gods to send tornados of flame and monsoon rains so powerful that the ground was scarred.' I don't know about you, but it sounds like they were pretty pissed."

"Anyway," Toph added, "whenever _you _get into a fight with Sugar Queen here, you sulk for days."

Sokka's voice rose to a shriek. "_I do not_!" Aang and Zuko simultaneously stuck their heads out of their respective tents to see what was going on. Aang, being the ever curious human that he was, padded over to Katara and tried to join the discussion.

"I think it's a good thing they made up. If the Spirits are battling each other, who knows what damage it would bring to the real world. Hey Zuko!" he called as Zuko was about to retreat back into his tent to avoid getting drawn into a potentially lethal conversation. "The Blue Spirit used fire in the battle! Do you think it's a firebender?"

Zuko sighed. "Do you even need to _ask_?" he asked, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

Aang ignored this and excitedly grabbed at Katara's hand. "Katara! Maybe we can find out who the Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit are!"

Katara frowned. "Aang, do you really think you have time to do that? You have waterbending practice, earthbending practice, and Zuko is still teaching your how to better control your fire." She quickly removed herself from Aang.

"And if they don't want you to find out who they are, you won't," Zuko added. "The Blue Spirit especially sounds like he wouldn't appreciate anyone messing with his business."

Katara planted her hands on her hips and shoved herself in front of Zuko. "You would say that," she spat, "of course, just because he's a man and a firebender! If the Painted Lady went around whipping water at him, we can safely assume she doesn't want anyone poking around her either!"

Toph looked at Katara and narrowed her eyes. "Calm down, Sugar Queen. We all know waterbenders kick butt. Sparky was just trying to discourage Aang from doing anything stupid."

Aang drew his eyebrows together and looked sad. "I'm not stupid," he whined. Toph patted his bald head.

"Don't worry, everyone does stupid things sometimes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hello there! I'm writing this while on vacation! Greetings from the beach! ~~~~~~~~~~~

The Blue Spirit was, for once, not leaping dramatically over the rooftops or accosting criminals. In fact, his current activity didn't seem fitting for him at all. The man in the blue and white mask was balancing easily on the branches of an incredibly leafy tree. He stretched out his arm and plucked one of the fruits, feeling its weight and wondering if it was edible.

"Don't eat them, they're purely ornamental," chided a voice from below him. He looked down. The Painted Lady glared up at him.

"You _would _set the meeting point to be a tree with useless fruit," he complained. She shrugged and waited for him to come down. Sighing, he obliged. He pulled out a piece of paper on which he had written down information about the Snake and passed it to her.

The Painted Lady paused as she scanned down the sheet of paper. The handwriting was familiar to her. She flicked her eyes to the motionless mask of the Blue Spirit. _Hm. _Quickly she read over the rest of the information.

"We know he paints his face," she began. "We know he's short and muscled, and that he's pretty ugly." She rolled up the parchment and underhanded it over to the Blue Spirit. He tossed it up nonchalantly and burnt it in a quick flare of fire before it hit his hand. The Painted Lady sniffed. "I suggest we split up and search for more information," she suggested suggestively.

"We need code names," the Blue Spirit intoned.

The Painted Lady turned to him. "You're kidding, right?" The Blue Spirit crossed his arms. Sighing, she agreed. "Fine then." Something about the Blue Spirit's head movement told her he was grinning his head off. "You're grinning your head off, aren't you," she accused.

The Blue Spirit felt as mischievous as a monkey. "I could call you 'Fury'," he suggested. Her scowl answered his question. "Okay, you can call me Blue, and I can call you Paint, okay?"

She sniffed. "Wow. _Very _undercover."

"Stop stifling my creativity!"

"_What _creativity?"

"And stop talking in italics!" The Blue Spirit crossed his arms and went back to being his Blue Spirit persona, a.k.a. silent and strong. A breeze flowed through the Painted Lady's veil and rippled through her robes.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11!

They had agreed to infiltrate The Sleeping Maiden tavern in hopes to find some sort of information. The Blue Spirit had pulled a huge hoodie over, hiding both his mask and his Dao blades, which were sheathed to his back. He had offered to try and find out information from the Snake himself, but the Painted Lady wasn't having any of it.

"He's more likely to spill his guts to a pretty little waitress," she muttered when he protested, searching through the wagon at the back of the tavern. The Blue Spirit crossed his arms.

"You're not going to be much help if you get stabbed, you know."

"You never wanted help in the first place. Now shut up and turn around so I can get this idiotic costume on." She had succeeded in her search and held up a waitress uniform disgustedly. She wrinkled her nose. "Lovely."

Blue turned his back on her, wondering how the heck he always managed to get into these weird, embarrassing situations. He heard Paint floundering around with the uniform and suppressed a snicker. Paint was cussing out the clothes with a very colorful vocabulary.

Eventually Paint poked his back. "Done. Can you let me use some fire for a second, Blue?" she asked, a pot of something in her hand. Blue obliged. "Thanks." She busily powdered white makeup over her red and yellow marks, using a sheet of floating water as a mirror. Then she quickly rimmed her eyes with kohl in the most recent fashion and powdered rouge onto her cheeks. The firelight glinted off of her long blond curls.

"I don't remember you being blond."

Paint smiled and patted her hair. "Wig." She carefully wove some flowers into it. She extended her mirror to survey the rest of herself and winced. The uniform was flattering to the point where it became almost ugly. _At least it's not as low as I thought it would be, _she grimaced.

"Well?" she asked artificially, flipping her long blond hair back in a way that maximized the airflow to her neck.

"You look like a prostitute," Blue offered in a gentlemanly manner. Paint whipped out a fan and fanned herself.

"Please, no compliments."

Blue grinned behind his hooded mask and slunk off to do his job. He entered through the front, while his disguised partner would sneak into the kitchen from the back. He adopted a more aggressive gait and ordered a drink from one of the women whose job it was to drunkify people. Sipping at it carefully, he slowly pivoted, scrutinizing the faces in the tavern.

A blonde, blue eyed waitress whisked past him with a full tray of alcohol in hand. Blue recognized the excessive floral decoration and sat down to watch and wait.

His partner had spotted the group of men faster than he had. There were four of them, their faces covered with blue and green paint lines that congregated around their mouths. Three of them were playing cards while the fourth fired them on. _Copycats, or has the Snake started a gang?_

The blonde set down the drinks, flirtatiously covering the lower half of her face with the fan. The standing man noticed her and passed the drinks out to his fellows. Distracted, he turned to her and smiled. The blonde fluttered her eyelashes at him and noted his knives; decent quality, looped to the belt.

"You're a sweet one," the man mumbled to her as she gathered up the tray. The waitress flashed her eyes at him and looked away. A flower tumbled from her hair, drifting before being caught by the slightly intoxicated man.

_Good hand-eye coordination._

The man sniffed the flower. "Very sweet."

"I've heard such wonderful things about you…"

The man halted. "Hm?" he asked pleasantly, twirling the flower. One hand inched towards his knives. Paint pretended to not notice and let out a melodious peal of laughter.

"Only the most extraordinary things! You're magic with knives."

"Much too dangerous, sweet."

Paint quickly mulled over her plan. He seemed hooked, so it was okay to take a risk… "When could I see you again?" she asked longingly, stepping closer to him. "Please?" The man nodded, quickly passing through the faces from thunderstruck to desire.

"Tomorrow I meet with my fellows under the River Bridge, when the moon crosses the treetops. You can wait in the trees for me, my flower."


	12. Chapter 12

The Blue Spirit watched the exchange between the man and the woman. Paint was pretty good at this, he had to admit. Then he realized that technically she was the one doing all the work, and he scowled. He was completely capable of getting information by himself. Angrily he turned in his chair and glared at the shelf of alcohol bottles behind the bar.

"Lost your girl, have ya?" A young bartender, skinny and unwashed, leaned against the counter next to the hooded man and patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"She wasn't mine," the man growled in response, shrugging off the hand. He made no motion to turn his head to look the bartender in the face.

The bartender, however, wasn't finished. In a tavern like The Sleeping Maiden, the bartenders were an interfering, joking lot, and got away with it because of the various security mechanisms they had in place. One being that every single bartender had his fingernails tipped with sleeping poison. "Oh, I didn't seriously mean she was ever yours. Obviously she isn't. She's a lovely flirtatious vixen with locks of gold – "

"Your poetry is terrible."

" – and eyes of sapphires. She moves with the grace of a lily in the wind and her voice is the perfect catch of pearls on a crystal glass." The bartender took a breath, grinning.

"Get me a Kamikaze."

"Jeez, can't even appreciate loveliness right in front of him. Hopeless lot, these young people." The Blue Spirit gritted his teeth at the teasing, patronizing tone of the almost-boy. Who was he to be calling _him _young? He stayed quiet, irritably chasing the conversation around in his mind as the bartender set about making his drink.

"Hi." He turned his head, mindful to keep it lowered so that his hoodie would hide his face. Next to him sat the girl with the 'locks of gold and eyes of sapphires'. She was out of breath, more of her flowers were unpinned, her styled wig coming undone. He risked a look back and saw the Snake-band loudly discussing their card game. Apparently one of them had cheated.

"Strawberry daiquiri," he heard her order. An overly feminine drink, one that didn't fit the Painted Lady in the least, but was completely in character for this prostitute – er, female companion – she was masquerading as. The bartender smilingly took her order while leaving a Kamikaze on the counter. As he left, she shoved her stool right up next to his and draped herself over him.

Angrily he tried to shove her off. "What the hell?!" he demanded lowly, getting punched in the nose by the strong perfume she was wearing.

"Shut up, I have to stay in character." She snaked an arm around his neck, being careful not to disturb the Dao blades under his hoodie.

"Did you have to wear a perfume that'd make a Shirshu go blind?" Grudgingly, he allowed her to continue her act. "Or were you planning to knock the Snake unconscious?"

"Believe it or not, I might actually hate this perfume more than you do. At least you won't have it stinking up your nose until the next time you take a bath."

"I might if you keep getting it all over me." He took his cold drink in hand and breathed in the scent of alcohol. He didn't mean to drink all of it, he just needed something to get rid of the bartender.

"I don't like being a prostitute any more than you do." She sounded irritated. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk in these heels?"

The Blue Spirit laughed once, dryly. "I had no idea," he replied, feeling a slight twinge of humor enter his irritation. "Society doesn't make men wear heels."

"While we women get heels, bathrooms that are _always _full, periods, and breasts."

Coughing at that last part, the hood turned towards her again. The Painted Lady instinctively searched his face, trying to make something out in the shadows of his hood. There was the glint of an eye, a faint approximation of skin. His hair was dark and fell over his face in chunks. There was a sort of familiarity to his face. "What's so bad about the last one?" he then asked.

Opening her eyes wide, she leaned her face closer to his. "Have _you _ever tried to run with two cantaloupes attached to your chest?"

The Blue Spirit could feel the blood shoot up into his face. This was definitely out of his comfort zone. How could girls talk about that stuff without feeling weird about it? Fixedly he stared at her face, noting her lip twitching in amusement. "I can't say that it ever… occurred to me," he answered, trying to go for something neutral.

Before she could respond, the bartender brought her drink. Slightly disentangling herself from Blue's hoodie, she pulled the fancy little drink closer to herself and batted her eyelashes at the bartender, pulling a strand of blonde behind her ear. "Thank you," she smiled, her voice disgustingly sweetened. Turning back to Blue, she put on an earnest look. "Don't worry; I'm not judging your lack of femininity or anything."

"Relieved to hear it." He sipped from his drink, looking into the dull reflections of the torches in his glass. Realizing they hadn't discussed the most important part of the night, he asked "What'd he tell you?"

"Tomorrow under the River Bridge. He's probably planning to gang rape me and then viciously murder me." Blue flinched slightly at her unemotional way of putting it. "Which means we'll have to figure out a way to take down all of them," she continued more quietly, noticing his rigidness.

"Great plan," was his sarcastic reply. Miffed, she sat herself back down in her own chair and glared into her daiquiri. What was his problem? Couldn't he at least try and contribute?

Feeling slightly bare after the Painted Lady removed herself from him, the Blue Spirit nudged her foot and got up. "Let's go outside."

Plaintively she looked up at him as he pushed himself away from the counter. "But I haven't even started my daiquiri."

"Yeah, well you've already ended my nose's capacity for Shirshu-killing-substances. I'm going outside." Without looking back he headed for the door, stepping over the body of an unconscious drunkard who appeared to be made purely out of muscle.

"Fine," the Painted Lady glowered at her drink as she shoved herself up from the stool. Quickly she looked around, making sure none of the male patrons were eyeing her. There were two, hard-looking old men who did their best to smile at her when she saw them. Gracing them with a smile of her own, she ducked into the back of the bar.


End file.
